


pride

by keeks414



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Character Study, Gen, How Do I Tag, i guess, in a way uhh, uhhh idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 02:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeks414/pseuds/keeks414
Summary: ''Sometimes, fathers are disappointing.''It hit her that maybe that wasn't what Jester needed, or wanted, to hear in that moment. But it slipped. Beau knew her father, and well. He was disappointing. That was one way of putting it.





	pride

_''Sometimes, fathers are disappointing.''_

It hit her that maybe that wasn't what Jester needed, or wanted, to hear in that moment. But it slipped. Beau knew her father, and well. He was disappointing. That was one way of putting it.

He had not been always though.

Beau remembered the time when she didn't see her father in such bad light, when she idolised him and really, really loved him. Perhaps she still did, in a weird way. However, that time was not what she saw in her mind when she heard the word 'father'. It was the resentment, humiliation, hurt. The fact that no matter how disappointing he was to her, she was a bigger disappointment to him.

She saw a raised eyebrow, daring her to continue with whatever explanation she had going on, knowing deep inside that he didn't give a shit. A gaze lowered to some papers he was writing on while she tried to tell him a story that made her laugh, an impressive trick she learned that day. A quiet 'mhm' he gave in response and a barely noticeable nod, not even looking up to see how her face would fall with that familiar pang in her chest. He didn't care. It didn't matter. She wasn't what he wanted her to be.

So fuck it. She won't try to be.

She was a disappointment, so she'll play her part. What he thought didn't matter.

Except that it did.

Beau tried, really hard, not to care what her father thought, what he said, what he never said. She tried so hard to tell herself that the way he looked at her did not matter, she didn't owe him shit. So maybe he cared more about her younger brother, maybe he would hate her even more if he knew anything about her. Maybe. Maybe. It didn't matter.

She would go her way and do as she pleased. She would get drunk and pass out in the middle of a street bruised from a fight she probably lost (she wasn't sure, couldn't quite remember), embarrassment to him but not to her. She would stubbornly refuse to learn what he wanted her to learn, to wear and behave the way he wanted her to. She'd put her feet on the table. Answer him rudely, get in his face a little. Disagree with every point he makes. Sometimes she'd succeed and piss him off, sometimes he'd look at her with anger and disappointment in his eyes again. But mostly he would just calmly, with a hint of amusement, answer back and win every argument they had. Most of which he spent writing slowly in his books and barely looking at her. When he did look at her, it was with that mocking look, as if he knew how wrong she was without even hearing what she had to say.

Her father didn't care, what she loved and who she was didn't matter. Beau could dream of a day when her father would look at her with interest and for once, actually listen.

So Beau would continue being bitchy and rude. The spite drove her.

Or maybe it was just the need to be heard, even if those were just hollow words of hate and not what she wanted him to know. It just went in a circle, Beau lashing out and her father mockingly dodging her arguments. It left her hurt, desperate. Even humiliated in a way. Beauregard was a prideful person. She put all of herself in those fights. Getting barely anything back hurt that pride, made her feel weak and naked. There was so much her father could have learned about her just from her anger, if he just tried to listen once.

The disgusting feeling of defeat wouldn't leave for days. It felt like yelling at a wall, it made her cringe and cry. Somehow, he made her feel like it was all her fault. Maybe it was. Maybe she was just a selfish, ungrateful daughter who had everything, but stubbornly refused all of it. It's not like she'd ever admit that to him aloud. Or anyone else.

Sometimes he _would_ pay attention. He'd answer her in a way that seemed like he did care, like he really wanted to listen and be a part of her life. To see who she was as a person.

Beau would cling to those moment, giddy with success. It never lasted. And their relationship never really changed. And Beau's resentment towards the aching need to impress her father only grew, until it was unbearable.

The fact was, no matter how disappointing he was to her, she was a bigger disappointment to him. And it hurt. It hurt so much that sometimes she felt as if it was choking her and there was nothing she could do. Something deep, at the bottom of her heart, told her that she would do everything to please him. She despised it. Refused. She would do nothing to please anyone. So she'd turn around and never look at her father again.

 

Distantly, Beau really hoped Jester's father was nothing like hers.

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea what i just wrote, except that im kinda projecting and this a poor attempt to try and get. closer to beau as a character. i guess. i dont know but i wrote this instead of studying so. hope it isnt too bad, thanks for reading!


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